Seven Days
by camembert
Summary: A week in the life of John Egbert and his roommate Dave Strider. Slash, drabble collection. Somewhat AU.
1. Monday AM

**A/N: Hi there. First time with this fandom soo... welp. Don't kill me. ;w;  
>This is a sort of AU where it's post-Sburb I think and Dave and John are in collegeuni, also a little more than just bros. This entire thing will basically be a collection of 100+word drabbles, one for each day of the week starting today. I think that covers most of it? Yeah. Idk.**

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><p><strong>= Monday Morning<strong>

From what he's heard, John has some insane end of term on Monday. He'd spent most of last week after school revising, and from the looks of his bed, covered in textbooks and highlighted sheets, most of last night cramming.

Dave rolls one of the papers up and whaps him lightly on the head. John whines, burrowing deeper into his pile of quilts and flash cards. The guilty backlash is almost instantaneous.

Dave coolly brushes it off.

"Wake up, sleeping beauty, rise and shine. We know a dark witch cursed you the day you were born and it's not your fault your grabby little ADD fingers touched that needle, so nevermind. It's cool now cause your motherfucking knight is here to save ya. I've traveled a long arduous journey across two halls and half the room and here's Maleficent's head on a silver platter. Considering you haven't brushed your teeth yet, I ain't gonna plant one on ya. So we're gonna deviate from the original story like those dumbass Hollywood directors and I'm just gonna keep sissyslapping your fragile slumbering frame with 'Skeletal Structures and Adaptations' until you fucking get up already."

"Ughhh, shut uuuppp," John groans, rolling over and swatting Dave's arm away. He'd fallen asleep with his glasses on. "Why are you even awake?"

Dave holds up his iPhone. "You have half an hour."

John's eyes go wide.

"Fuck!" he swears, leaping out of bed.

Dave is left in the bedroom with a rare shocked expression on his face.

The next few minutes fly by in a flurry of _gosh oh gosh oh gosh_ and _Dave my pen have you seen my pen WHERE IS MY PEN_ and _I'm gonna die I'm gonna die THEY'RE GONNA KILL ME_. Needless to say, Dave doesn't take too kindly to all this shit.

The moment John comes in grabbing range (all the while blabbering about how he's going to fail everything) Dave grabs John by the shoulder and forces him to look him in the eye.

His are a deer's in the headlights, wide and startled and unfocused.

He's a huge fucking adorable high-strung mess.

"I'm going to be late," John protests weakly. He tries to pull away from Dave's grip. Dave gives him a _bitch please_ look from behind his shades.

Then he kisses him.

"Chill out," Dave murmurs, smirk light against John's lips. John stares at him for a couple seconds before he fully processes what just happened.

"Th-thanks," he stammers, pulling away, fiddling with the strap of his bag. "Um, yeah. I'm chill now. Uh. Ish."

Dave's smirk is threatening to worm itself into an actual smile so he hastily gives the mess John calls his hair a brisk ruffle and guides him to the door.

"Now on your way, soldier. Don't come back until you get an A."

John's bright, sleepy laugh is music to his ears. "You're so mean."

He gives Dave a light kiss before leaving.

Even when he's sure John's left the building, Dave doesn't smile. It would be uncool.

He settles for smirking all day long instead.


	2. Tuesday PM

**= Tuesday Afternoon**

"Daaave, faster!"

"I'm trying, Egbert-"

"Then try _harder_," John whines.

Dave gives a light grunt with the effort and a small gasp escapes John's lips.

"Do that again, I'm so close-"

Dave pushes hard one last time, sending John whooping in delight as he reaches a height Dave is quite sure is supposed to be illegal to be on a swing set. He leaps off with surprising finesse and botches the landing by stumbling a little on his feet.

"Ha! See, I told you I can go further than that rock!" John states triumphantly. A couple parents' heads turn their way, and Dave rolls his eyes behind his shades.

"Stop it, Egbert, you're embarrassing me. Try to act your age for once, will ya?"

John giggles, putting 5-year-old girls everywhere to shame, then latches onto Dave's arm to pull him in the direction of the seesaws. "People are looking at us weird 'cuz you're not smiling. They think I've kidnapped you to have fun or something."

"Which you are doing," Dave interrupts meaningfully. He has - correction, _had_ - places to go. A flock of kids close in on the swing set, most likely to attempt the stunt they'd just pulled. Dave allows himself a smirk at the thought.

Immediately, a finger is poking him in the cheek. "Smile, Dave!"

"No can do, Egbert. Bro had my facial muscles paralyzed since birth."

John just giggles again and hops onto one end of the seesaw. "Okay, just stand over there and jump when you're ready."

They get chased out by security shortly after.

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><p><strong>AN: AHAHAHA see what I tried to do here. -fail-  
>Yeah, so these drabbles are PWP and range from bite-sized to downright tiny. Mostly tiny, because my creativity is handicapped half the time.<br>Also I have reviewers? daskglkag what, what are you doing here I don't even. XD I love you, have my virtual cookies. I programmed them this morning.  
><strong>


	3. Wednesday PM

**A/N: Derp, late! Double update today then I guess.**

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><p><strong>= Wednesday Night<strong>

Living with Bro had honed Dave's senses to the sharpness of eighty billion fucking knives. He doesn't care if he's pushing it, because he could probably hear John trying to sneak into his room even if the music had been turned up full volume.

"Sup."

John's eyes widen and glance up at him, taken aback, before darting back to the floor. "Hey."

Neither of them question why the other is still awake.

"It's okay," Dave says the same moment John blurts out an "I'm sorry" and it leaves them in another silence.

Then John comes over and climbs into Dave's lap without a word.

Dave's not sure when he made the move to hold him close, or when exactly John's breath start to hitch and shatter, but now there's a warm wet spot where John's glasses are digging into his shoulder and Dave's whispering fiercely into John's dark hair, telling him '_it's fine, it's over_' again and again like a broken record.

Eventually, John stops shaking, but Dave doesn't let go.

He wakes up alone the next morning.


	4. Thursday PM

****A/N: Dayum these are all so short. I have the creative capacity of a braindead squirrel, apparently.  
>But I guess this IS a drabble collection..?<br>/herpderp 8D  
><strong>**

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><p><strong>= Thursday Afternoon<strong>

_Bonk._

_Bonk._

_DOOF._

"Fuck it Egbert let me hold the goddamn umbrella before you poke my eye out."

"No! This is alright, see?" John insists, holding the umbrella the furthest he could reach. This action backfires when his grip loosens, causing the umbrella to swing back and slip from his fingers.

They are drenched in seconds.

"Okaaay, that was a bad idea," John admits when they're back in the safety of the umbrella, this time in Dave's (sufficiently taller) hands. Dave just snorts. He flips his hair out his eyes and the water hits John in a mini-shower. John pouts, his own hair uncharacteristically flat against his scalp from the downpour. He sniffs dejectedly and hugs himself from the cold wet.

Suddenly, an arm wraps around him then pulls him sideways, making him collide against Dave's warm side. John makes a startled noise and looks up. Dave's looking ahead, pokerfaced as always.

"I gotta learn how to fucking say no to you," he deadpans thoughtfully.

John smiles to himself and hides his quickly reddening face in Dave's sleeve.


	5. Friday PM

**= Friday Night**

"We can't do that, we're out of popcorn!"

"Hell no. I am not letting you walk out when you finally choose a movie that doesn't stink of actors who are way past their prime."

"National Treasure 3 is scheduled for 2014. Your argument is invalid."

"Shit, they're making another one? Whatever. Overruled," Dave desists, hooking an arm behind John's knees and scooping him up bridal-style, drawing a surprised yelp from the black-haired boy.

"You're a jerk. Oomph." John repositions himself with disdain after Dave dumps him unceremoniously on the sofa. Dave sits down, making a move to put an arm around John, but it's slapped away. "It is you."

"But I'm your jerk," Dave retaliates with a smirk.

"Yeah," John concedes, drawing him in for a kiss.

Despite_ X-Men: First Class_ being a decent movie in Dave's opinion, they end up paying as little attention to it as any of John's romcoms.

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><p><strong>AN: Friday nights are movie nights. uvu  
><strong>


	6. Saturday AM

**A/N: Look, something that's actually over 200 words! -brick'd-  
>One more to go. uvu<br>**

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><p><strong>=Saturday Morning<br>**

A shuffling noise alerts John to Dave's groggy presence at the tiny apartment kitchen. John looks up from his coffee and gives him a warm smile.

"Morning. Wow, you're early!" John compliments.

"Muh," Dave says indifferently. His shades are off, and the sleep in his eyes is so obvious it's endearing. John's smile grows wider.

"Coffee?" he offers.

"Muh," Dave repeats. John's pouring him a cup when Dave suddenly comes up behind him, resting his chin on John's head. His arms wrap loosely around John's waist, and oh my gosh he really is sleepy because John actually has to shift to support Dave's weight.

"Dave," he warns, quickly setting the coffee maker down.

"Hmm mf t'ved" is what John thinks he says next. It sounded awfully like 'roses are red' and 'get in the shed' at the same time and John's pretty sure he didn't mean either of those. Dave is sleepy, not retarded.

"Sorry?" John asks, nudging Dave back slightly and doing a half-turn to face him. Dave's arms relax, and he gives John a lethargic, sleep-addled glare that looks ten times less threatening than it's probably meant to be.

"Come back to bed," Dave enunciates slowly, irritably; like each syllable has done him some personal injustice. John chuckles softly.

"Have some coffee first. It'll make you feel better when you wake up next, I promise. Sugar with half and half, just how you like it." He pauses there to tilt Dave's chin a little downwards and tiptoes, sampling him a taste of his lips. "See? Now sit down and drink some, okay? I'll be back right after I pick up the mail."

"Mh," Dave says, blinking owlishly at the mug John has shoved into his hands. He keeps this up for a while before draining it in one long drag without bothering to sit down.

Yep. Exactly how he likes it.

John comes back into the kitchen with a handful of bills bills bills and it's making Dave's head ache. God, it's too early for this. He drops the empty mug in the sink and reattaches himself to John the moment he's in range. John yelps, alarmed, trying his utmost best not to trip over.

"Sleep," Dave demands.

"D-Dave! Don't be silly-"

"Sleep."

John places the bills on the counter before he gets the chance to crumple them. "I haven't even-"

"_Sleep_," he insists, this time ducking his head the slightest bit to press his nose into John's neck. Almost immediately, John recoils with a startled giggle.

"Alright, alright!" John squeaks, breaking out of Dave's grip to turn around and hold his face gently in his hands. "We'll go back to sleep. M'kay?"

"Fucking finally," Dave mumbles, and John just laughs as he takes Dave's hand and leads him back inside.


	7. Sunday PM

**A/N: Uuuh whoops here's my obscenely late last chapter! 8D;  
>jskgs please forgive me sorry for the wait<br>**

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><p><strong>=Sunday Night<strong>

John, fresh after a decidedly intense makeout session, is probably the the most perfect sight in the world. It's something that deserves to be cataloged in the 101 Things To See Before You Die, and damn. Dave's gonna make sure he sees this as much as humanly possible.

He's got blue eyes people write songs about, and for Dave they're half-open and clouded with lust. It looks out of place on an innocent, delicate face like his, and Dave figures that's what makes it so damn hot. His mouth is slack, lips red from all the kissing and the corner of his mouth is more than a little wet. The entire thing looks like some sort of invitation, and Dave is more than happy to attend.

He keeps it on the mouth. He'd like to take it down to John's neck, to nip at that pale, sensitive expanse of skin, turn it as red as his face, but John wouldn't stand a chance. Dave can barely touch John's neck, the ticklish fuck, and the last time he tried, John squeaked, flailed wildly, and accidentally kneed Dave in the spleen. Tonight they're taking it slower, but if it means no casualties, then Dave definitely doesn't mind.

Sure enough, the kisses become softer and less frequent, and eventually John pulls away to kiss him on the nose with disgusting sweetness before turning his back to him. He digs the remote out from between the couch cushions to change the channel.

Dave glares jealously at the TV set before swing one leg over John's waist, one arm around his torso, and turning over to press his chest against John's back. Dave drags John flush against him, and, not too sure how else to win his affection, smushes his face into John's hair, shades and all.

John laughs at this pathetic display, but he turns and takes Dave's chin and gives him one last warm kiss which fixes his bruised self-esteem. Dave gives no heed to the dumb, totally unironic smile that's stuck on his face and settles his chin on John's shoulder.

John stops on one of his many movie channels. To Dave, it means it's time to doze off. John's absently stroking the hand he has draped over his chest and Dave focuses on the feeling of it as he closes his eyes. Nuzzling his neck earns him a jolt, a giggle, a slap on the hand and a soft, reprimanding "Daaave".

His fingers reach back to card through Dave's hair. John smells musky sweet, like cream pie and strawberries and aftershave and fresh baby ass and paired with the hand in his hair, it's quickly robbing Dave of his alertness.

Dave drifts off practically seconds later to the sounds of a TV drama and John humming a lighthearted 80's showtune.

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><p><strong>AN: And that's that! :)  
>Thank you so much, readers and reviewers, this is the first drabble series I've done for this fandom and I'm so happy you all seem to like it.<br>So thanks again for reading Seven Days, Cammy out!  
><strong>


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